Tenebris
by Lord Drenghul
Summary: Magic is a fickle thing. A mad man's bid for godhood does not go as planned... it seems the other Gods did not want Kids on their lawn. So now he has to make do in a strange new world far in the future and repair his sundered soul. Warnings: Violence, insanity, grey Voldemort, grey Dumbledore, OOCness, AU, muggle warfare
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is my first story so be gentle please. Also I could use a Beta. This is just the intro. We will get into his past more as the story goes on. Don't worry Azag may seem powerful but it will be a long time before he is at his former level. Also the use of black magic has addled his brains as you will see. haha**

9000 BC Mesopotamia

Atop a massive Ziggurat stood a single man, he wore robes of shimmering silk that flowed like watery silver. His skin was an unnatural pale with softly glowing veins. His face was scarred from countless battles and his eyes were a fierce ethereal amethyst. This was the Dark Lord Azag. He was the scourge of the known world. The might of Atlantis was nothing before his power! The seas themselves heeded his call. He was a god made flesh.

"At long last those arrogant _Lanteans_ have met their doom… at my hand!"

He looked to the skies as if challenging the Gods themselves to refute his statement. The countless people surrounding his ziggurat cheered in ecstasy as lightning arced in the skies above. Atlantis the former Superpower of the world lie broken at the bottom of the newly formed Mediterranean Sea… a sea formed at the whim of a madman with dreams of godhood. Yet his victory was hollow… the grief deep within his soul has twisted his mind filling it with hate. The hate merely numbed the pain he felt within. His beloved wife brutally murdered by Lantean solders because she refused to marry their emperor. His unborn child torn from her womb as they gutted her.

"Yet even with all my power one thing eludes me…"

He turns to a man in tattered robes being escorted by hideous insectoid creatures… human like abominations with four arms and two legs. They were like an unholy hybrid of Ant and Man. Their grotesque bodies were concealed by black robes. They were the Xihuuli. Azag turned to the xihuuli warriors as they forced the robbed man to his knees.

"Step away from the prisoner. He is no threat."

The creatures withdrew as the aging man gazed at the Dark Lord.

"So you are the mysterious Loex Ith?"

Loex glanced at a ring on his finger. It bore a single rune… a lightning bolt.

"I am…"

"For your sake I hope the rumors are true. You can bring back the dead?"

"That is beyond my power… such things are unnatural."

Azag raised his hand as violet lightning arced at his fingertips.

"Then you shall die…"

"Wait! I cannot resurrect the dead but I can bring forth their spirit for a time. It is taxing but I can give you time to say your goodbye!"

The lightning faded and Azag pondered. He brought his hand to his chin and stroked his goatee. This was a chance to see his beloved one last time. To tell her how much she meant to him… to show her the dedication and loyalty he showed. He crushed the greatest empire to grace the earth. Ground it to dust beneath his heel all for her!

"Do it and you will be free to go."

So Loex closed his eyes and touched the emblem on his ring. It glowed with eldritch fury. A rift formed in the air as blood began to drip from his nose. A female form emerged. She was a good looking woman although not model material. She looked around in bewilderment until she laid eyes on her beloved.

"Samuel? What has become of you!"

Her shimmering form rushed into his arms yet he backed away as her glowing body burned against his tainted flesh. He howled in agony.

"What have you done to yourself? Such foul magic's my very presence purges your taint!"

Samuel/Azag looked at her with fear and longing… she met his gaze with her own, a look of disappointment and disgust.

"What demons have you fornicated with! How many children have you killed I wonder?"

She turned away from him and faded away. Loex looked at Azag with pity.

"Do you regret your actions now Samuel?"

"No…"

A raised hand and a burst of violet flames were the last things Loex experienced... the rest was pain as his soul was torn from his body. As the crumbling ashes settled Azag looked around him. This world was meaningless. He had no reason to remain. He had taken steps to secure his continued existence. As a god his beloved would surely look past his past deeds! He reached within his robes and pulled a blade from within.

"There is nothing more for me here… it is time for my ascension."

The blade plunged into his heart and the valley was filled with violet flames. Yet his rise to godhood did not go as planned… magic is a fickle thing as Azag will learn. The Gods were not pleased with his hubris and so instead of allowing him to rise as an equal. They seized his rising soul and cast it into the distant future. So perilous was the journey that only a fraction of his soul survived.

1981

Somewhere in Scotland?

Emerald fire roared to life in the empty field and quickly shifted to violet. The flames coalesced into the form of a human… it was skeletal and weak practically mummified. Its leathery eyelids opened revealing dull violet eyes. His withered mouth opened as a puff of dust escaped. He was gasping for air and straining in agony. Softly a sound emerged barely audible to the human ear. His voice was aged and weak.

"Why?"

**AN 2: I am going to do a page a day. May get longer chapters once I get in the swing of things. I've never written outside of Role Plays before. haha**


	2. Chapter 2

Scotland

The leathery withered corpse of Azag writhed in the sunlight. He was a mere shadow of his former glory... nay not even a shadow. His soul, his magic was naught but vapor. Around him the grass browned and crumbled to

dust as his insatiable hunger devoured their life force. Yet the life of plants which barely sustained him did not restore him. He needed to consume something more substantial. He needed animal life... there above him he felt the flaps of their wings on the air.

"Birds... they shall do."

He reached a gnarled claw like hand and the buzzards descended to feast on his rotting flesh. Yet it was a trap as they closed he grasped their very life force and tore it from their bodies. The dozen vultures began to plumit

as they withered and died. Azag looked to his mummified hand and smiled painfully. His skin has a little more life to it. Yet in order to become fully restored he would need to feast on human life force. Their souls torn from their bodies would return his body to its former beauty. His magic was another story... it would take decades possibly centuries before he could attempt ascension again. He snarled in rage.

"No ascension is not an option. I will not suffer this agony again."

He rose on shaky legs and looked to the east. He needed to find clothing it isn't proper for a man of his status to walk the world naked. As soon as his magics are capable he will weave a robe from the ashes of his victims.

TWO DAYS LATER

Voldemort the most feared Dark Lord in centuries was vanquished by the magic weaved by Lilly Potter. Her son Harry is heralded as the hero at the word of Albus Dumbledore. In his ignorance he left the child with his Aunt and Uncle in foolish hope that they would care for him... he would later regret this decision.

Voldemorts spirit flees across the channel heading for Albania to regain some of his strength. His spirit is wracked with agony as the ley lines shift from a sudden burst of magical power.

"This power... no records have been seen since ancient Sumer. What could it be?"

Voldemort was knowledgeable in the darkest of magic even now his spirit clings to life. Had he not been vanquished he would have achieved his ultimate goal... no not the conquest of the world. That was a side goal. Voldemort craved power and what is more powerful then a god? He was merely two Horcruxes away from his goal. Dumbledore and Potter would pay for this! How embarrassing for the Darkest Lord in centuries to be vanquished by an Infant.

"No the child had nothing to do with this... it had to be some ancient Potter magic. Were they not descended from the Pervells?"

Yes that had to be it. Potters parents had used some ancient magic to save their son from his wrath. So Voldemort fled England for a time yet he would return.

Meanwhile in Scotland an elderly man who looked moments from death stood amidst a swirling vortex of dust and ash. His violet eyes glowing faintly as his insidious laugh echoed for close to a mile. The vortex faded leaving the man clad in grey robes. He took a stone into his hand and waved the other over the stone transforming it into a glassy substance. He gazed into the stone muttering under his breath.

"I must head east."

He had seen a settlement... a family living isolated. Their souls would serve him well. So Azag began to walk gathering his strength as he did. He would need all the magic he could muster to face these people. Who knew what strange magics they could bring to bear against him. Also he required a great deal more power to feed on humans. The stronger the soul the more power is needed to rip that soul and life from the body. Few beings had souls stronger than humans although most sapient beings had souls of equal strength.

"Soon I will not be so feeble."


	3. Chapter 3

**Scotland**

Azag had been walking for hours... in the distance he can feel the life force of the family. Their home is just over the hill. Soon he would truly be alive! The sun is fading behind the clouds as a gentle rain begins to fall. The cold droplets sting his skin yet it is a pleasant sting. He looks to the heavens and basks in the tears of the gods. He sighs contentedly as his thoughts drift to lighter times. A time before his rise to power.

"Such pleasure..."

**9300 BC Mesopotamia **

Samuel was a young man. Raised in the village of Dur'leth he is a trained hunter providing furs and game to feed his fellow villagers. All throughout his childhood he had one close friend. She was the apple of his eye and his reason for living. Her family raised dairy cattle and thanks to that life she had fair skin. Although many young men of the village desired her hand she had eyes only for one. Samuel won her heart the day he took a bore tusk through the gut in a desperate effort to save her life. How he survived is a mystery the only reason the village elders could come up with is that the gods favored him.

"I am truly favored by the gods. Why else would I have the most beautiful woman in this world as my wife?"

He returned home from a long hunt. The beast he had slain would feed his family and this village for a week. He took the carcass to the butcher and returned home. Walking through the door he saw his wife. She had olive skin, amber eyes, and long dark hair. She was a work of art and she was his. She looked to him with a bright smile her eyes alight with the fires of love.

"Samuel your hunt went well I hope?"

She rushed into his arms and they embraced.

"It went well Persephone. We will feast for a week maybe more!"

He kissed her tenderly and she gazed lovingly into his eyes.

"My love I am with child."

He took her hands in his and took her outside. This calls for celebration!

**Scotland present day**

Tears drained from his eyes yet no one can see your tears when you cry in the rain. He stood there for close to an hour weeping his heart out. Oh how he missed his beloved. How he missed his child... the youngling he never saw born. It is a tragedy that the ages could not erase. Not even revenge could heal his shattered heart. His soul was gone laid waste.

"Oh how I wish I could have watched you grow up my child. How I wish I could have held my beloved as you married your own woman and gifted us with grand children."

Yet it did not do to dwell on dreams. His dreams would never come true. He has no hope he is past redemption. There is no salvation for him only death and destruction. Steeling his resolve he continued his trek readying himself to brutally murder the family ahead. They could have easily been him and his beloved in another life. The irony is not lost on him. He knows he has become the very thing he sought to destroy.

"I am past the point for regret. I am that I am."

He knocks on the door and gives himself a weary old man look. A young man in his early thirties answers the door.

"Hello sir do you need help?"

Azag gasps.

"I've been lost for days I am amazed to have found you! Please let me come in and rest. I haven't eaten in days."

The man ushers him in and his wife and children set to work fixing him a warm meal.

"I'm jack and this is my wife Lani. This little angel is Kathy or Kate for short and the little devil over there is Devin."

Jack has short blonde hair while Lani has red hair. Both have blue eyes their children look like a mix of the two obviously. Azag almost considers sparing them... almost his survival and return to power is worth any price. Their deaths shall not be in vain. As he eats the soup and grilled cheese he gathers his magic preparing to strike. The children will be minor threats. He must neutralize the parents first.

"So Mr. why were you wondering the country side?"

Jack assumes that Azags violet eyes are contact lenses. He isn't weirded out in the least.

"I was kidnapped and left in a field. I don't know where I am or why they left me here."

Soon he would strike. Casually he lifted his hands and within the blink of an eye Jack and Lani were flung into the walls of their home. They weren't needed alive the children would provide plenty of energy to restore him. He flicked his wrists breaking their necks. He turned to the children now ready to feed and moved with inhuman grace. He grasped Devin by the throat and focussed his power into drawing the life and soul of the child into himself. He smiled coldly as his skin smoothed and tightened. Decades of aging undone in seconds. The child withered and died in his grip as his body was restored to its prime. He drops the body as it crumbles to dust and turns to his next victim. A sudden flashback filling his mind.

**9300 BC Mesopotamia **

Samual returned from another successful hunt. His wife is five months pregnant and he is an eager father to be. He sees smoke rising from the village and drops his bounty to rush home. As he enters the village he sees several dead villagers and dozens of people gathered together. I pushes through them but what he sees chills him to the bone. There laying disemboweled is his beloved Persephone. His unborn child torn from her body. He drops to his knees and weeps his sorrowful screams of anguish echoing for miles. Finally he turns to the other villagers hatred in his eyes. Fire and lightning crackle at his fingertips as the levee breaks allowing a portion of his inner power to spill forth.

"Who did this?"

An elder steps forward.

"You have heard have you not? The Empire of Atlantis has begun to expand to the East. Their solders came to our village to demand tribute. Your wife was chosen to become a concubine of their emperor because of her beauty. She refused and declared that she is wed to another... that she bears your child. The solders tried to take her by force and when several of our people tried to stop them they were slain. They then killed her as well before lighting our homes and leaving."

Samuel was furious beyond words. He just closed his eyes and turned walking away from his home.

"I swear to you my beloved... I will make them pay."

So began his journey and for the next hundred years Samuel traveled the world honing his skills and expanding his knowledge of magic. At the same time he learned of great and terrible powers... beings that would aid him in his quest for revenge. Beings of darkness and sorrow, hatred made manifest. They chose him as their instrument and through him the world would be plunged into a dark age.

**Scotland modern day**

Azag turned his gaze to the other child. She was older of course sixteen years old. She had a stick in her hand. He quirked an eyebrow.

"Reducto!"

Suddenly his eyes widen in shock as he is blasted through the wall of the house. The girl emerges from the home a furious glint in her eye.

"You killed them!"

He sees mania in those eyes.

"I will make you feel my pain..."

A whispered word and his world explodes in agony.

"Crucio..."


	4. Chapter 4

**Scotland**

Azag writhed on the ground for who knows how long. To him it felt like hours then as sudden as the pain came it was gone. A whispered word he couldn't quite make out and he was paralyzed. He looked at the girl with frightened eyes as he gathered his wits. Slowly he gathered magic to himself preparing to break the curse that was holding him prisoner. The girl paced the room muttering to herself. Azag had taken the knowledge of language from the minds of the parents when they had answered the door. He wished he had read deeper into their memories so he would have known of the sorceress. She turned her wand on him.

"I hope I can do this... Avada Kadavra!"

Green light flashed and struck Azag. He broke into a horrible coughing fit. The girl was petrified the killing curse didn't work! Suddenly the words from her DADA teacher came to her. She has to mean it... no matter how bad this man is. She doesn't have the guts to use that curse. Her shock and disappointment is exactly what Azag was waiting for. The killing curse didn't end him but it ended the spell holding him. He thrust his hand forward flinging her into the house. He glided to his feed and regally strode into the home. Her wand flew into his and and he gazed into her terrified eyes.

"You are lucky child that your spell failed. I could sense it's intent. To kill you lacked that intent yourself. That is why you failed."

He twirled the wand in his hand gazing at it curiously.

"Strange item you have here... it is a focus for your magic. In my time it took decades to master ones power. Yet with this it would only take one maybe two decades at the most. Amazing!"

She waits for death to come to her.

"I believe we may be able to work out a deal... if you had killed me your brother would have died as well."

She looks at him confused.

"But you killed him!"

A dark laugh fills the room.

"Your brother lives... within me. When I am strong enough I can return him to you. All that I ask is that you join me. Be my guide teach me of your world. Then when I have recovered I shall forge for him a new body and we may go our separate ways."

She wants to believe him but she can't trust the thing that murdered her family.

"I want an unbreakable vow."

"I have never heard of such a thing?"

"We will need another wizard or witch to be our witness."

"Very well I will do it... but first you must teach me of your world."

Azag releases her from his hold and returns her wand.

"We must leave this place. Come..."

He turns to leave.

"Wait I can apparate us!"

"Explain."

"Its like teleportation."

She follows him out points her wand towards the sky.

"Morsmordre! It's to throw the DMLE off our trail. Now don't resist!"

The dark mark forms above the house and she grabs Azag apparating them away. They appear outside the Leaky Cauldron and get two separate rooms. She isn't sharing a room with a stranger after all. She looks at her new partner.

"We can talk tomorrow. I need some time to come to grips with what's happened. Okay?"

Azag nods and they go their separate ways. Once in his room he sits on his bed and starts to meditate. The room drops in temperature and a feeling of dread overwhelms him. He remembers long ago...

**9240 BC Eastern Europe**

Samuel has spent the last sixty years travelling the world learning what magic he could. His body is beginning to grow old. He is eighty years old now. The time is drawing near for his war. Soon he shall have his revenge. He settles into a cave and begins to meditate. The cave grows darker and more ominous as a chill settles into his bones. The shadows dance and whispers caress his mind.

_"̴Samuel͜ sưc̷h͟ da͡r͏kn͡es̛s f͞il̢ls͠ ̕yo͏ur͝ he̕art̷." "W̛e͘ féel ̴yo͠ur gri̛e͝f...͝ it ͢is̴ ͢o͏u͡r̡ amb͢ros͢įa̧.̸"̵ "̕I can͟ a͏i͞d ͏you̷ in ̡y͟o̢u̴r ̡qu͟es͠t.̕"͟ ͘"͠Y͠ou͟ ͠w̛il͝l̶ hàv̀e̷ yo̡u̕r̨ ̡r̛eve͞ng̕e. ̕Be͠c͞o͏me̡ ou͠r͞ ͜in͞st̢rum̷én̶t! ̀Al͞l͢ǫw u̢ś ̧to͝ aid҉ y̶ou.̸" ͢"J́oin ̷w͝ith̸ us͞s͡s͏ss̸ss̴.͠"͏_

The voices were a mixture of male and female. Some shifting mid sentence. Others growled or rasped it was an unholy symphony. He knew he had found his secret weapon. These entities would be the key to his success. He stood arms wide and shouted.

"I will serve!"

The shadows swirled around him like a tempest and descended.

_"̡F̴rom he͘nce̵ fo͞rt͏h ̶you ͏a͡r̡e our͞ Cha͘m͏p̛i͜o̴n... ͘A͜z͟ag̢-̧Tho̧t͡h.͠"_

__Samuel dropped to his knees agony gripping his body. His veins were bulging black and his eyes had black blood vessels making them appear fractured. He screamed his voice shifting like the others. As the shadows receded Azag stood shakily. His body was young and beautiful again. The only change were his eyes. They were violet like amethyst. The world would know fear...

**Modern Day**

Azag knew what this meant. The shadows grew dark and malicious. His masters were coming. He braced himself for the pain that was to come. He gazed at his hands and saw the veins beginning to bulge as his own darkness emerged to greet his masters. Their voices flooded the room soft and gentle yet no less horrible.

_"͢Ǫu͡r̸ ̢c̕h͜ámp͝i̡o͏n."̵ "T̶h̨e̛re ͟is ͏á ҉p̛re͡te̶n͢d͜eŗ.͜"͜ "A usur͢pe̡r̶ ̧who ͜dar̵ed͞ c̶l҉aim̕ ͝youŕ ̶th̴r̨o͡ne͏!͟" _

_"̷He͏ bear̷s ͟you͞r͢ ͝ţitl̶e ҉w̧it̕h̡ ͟i͜m͞pun̢ity.̧" "̢He ̶wil̀l kneel b̀efo̷re ̡u͏s. ̶Yoú a͡r̷e ͠o҉ur i҉nstru̶me͡nt ͢grin͠d̛ h̸im͘ t͟o du̧st ben̨ęat̶h ͡y̕ǫu̧r ҉h͞e̷e̸l.̴" ͝_

_**"͏̶͘͘D̷́͠E̛͡S̷̕͘͘͏T҉̴̡͠R͟O͏̵Y͏̡̡͜ ̡͟͠͞͡H̸̴̡͝I̶̛͟M̛͜͝"̵̴͟**_

The last voice was darker and more vile than the rest. It rattled the window and forced Azag to his knees. His ears and eyes bled as he screamed. This voice was more powerful than he could possibly imagine. It was darkness incarnate. The room was filled with frost and his hair had icicles. He trembled in fear for the first time in ages. This voice was different and he had never heard it before.

"Who are you?"

**"͢͞҉̢͝I͏͟҉̴̧ ͝͠͠͞A̸M̧̀̀̕ ̨̨̢̡T̴̶̷͜͟H̴̢͡҉̵Á̵̵̡͞T̨͜͏ ̷̵͡Į̛͜ ̧̡́͘҉A̧M͘͝"̨͠ ͘͞**  
**̧̕͢҉**  
**͏̴͡T̢̀͠h̢͘͜ȩ͟͜͞ ́͡͏v̕͟͢͝ơ̕͝i̴͘c̵̕͡҉̶e̸͡ ̶͘͠͞ṕ̕͏a͡͠͡ú̀͜s̷̶͘͢e̸͜͞d̛͞҉͘ ҉҉a̷͘s̨͘͘ ̧͡r̀͘e̴̸a̴͞l̴̵͞͏i̶̡t̷̡͜͢y͘̕͢ ̵̸͘͜͜ŕ̵̵͞i̷͞p̶̷͘̕͞ṕ̶͘͝l̀e̴̕͞d̷̸́́͠.̡̛̀͢͜**  
**  
****҉̸"̢͟Í̛͟ ̧́͞͏̷Ą͟҉M̸̶̶ ̷̷͘͢Z̢̀Ơ̵͞͏R̀͘͏҉҉G̸͘͘͘͟A͟҉̧̡͝T͏̛̛H̶͜"̷̷̶̡**

The room twisted and writhed and then just like that everything was normal. The voices were gone and Azag sit on his bed in a fetal position rocking back and forth sucking his thumb. His eyes bloodshot tears of blood pouring down his face. He was quietly gibbering to himself.

"His name is Zorgath, his name is Zorgath, his name is Zorgath!"


End file.
